


Heartbeat

by HurricanesAndRainbows (QueenMangue)



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Disturbing Themes, Endgame Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga, I Don't Even Know, I Love My Babies, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Jeon Jungkook & Min Yoongi | Suga Are Best Friends, M/M, Major Depressive Disorder, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sad Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags will be updated, probably slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-02 13:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19442017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMangue/pseuds/HurricanesAndRainbows
Summary: Name- Jung HoseokDiagnosis- Obsessive Compulsive Disorder______________________________________________Name- Min YoongiDiagnosis- Major Depressive DisorderOr, the one in which Hoseok and Yoongi's universes collide when they least expect it. Hoseok has always been good at running away, and Yoongi at staying exactly where he is. And maybe, just maybe, that's just what they need.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so one moment i was falling asleep and the next, i was jotting down the idea for this fic. I'm really excited to see how it pans out!  
> Updates are probably gonna be at random intervals. Sorry for that. But i'm definitely gonna be updating regularly!  
> IMPORTANT:  
> Also, potential triggers for people who suffer/have suffered from mental health issues (not much in the first few chapters, though). Especially if you have/had OCD (intrusive thoughts), this fic might be triggering in the later chapters. So, please exercise caution. I'll update the tags and trigger warnings as we go.  
> I apologize in advance for any mistakes made, i'm not a native speaker :3

**20th August 2014**

**Name** : Jung Hoseok

**Age** : 18

**Sex** : Male

**Education** : High school graduate

**Marital Status** : Unmarried

**Family Structure:** Nuclear

**Informant** : Jung Dawon (sister); Self

**Informant Reliability:** Adequate

**Chief Complaints**

  * Constant and consistent unwanted thoughts which are ‘repelling and distressing’ in nature
  * Self-harming behavior
  * Consistent and pervasive low mood and decreased interest in previously pleasurable activities
  * Easy fatigability
  * Irritability when interacting with immediate family members
  * Crying spells
  * Social isolation
  * Difficulty falling asleep and maintaining sleep at night
  * Lack of appetite



**Onset** : Insidious

**Course** : Continuous

**Progress** : Deteriorating

**Provisional Diagnosis:** Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Predominantly obsessional thoughts

(F42.0) Comorbid with- Severe Depressive Episode without psychotic

Symptoms (F32.2) 

* * *

It was an unusually warm day. Hoseok usually loves the warmth that summer brings, loves the feel of sunshine upon his skin and loves looking at birds flying freely in the clear blue sky, but right now, it was unusually warm. The kind of warm that makes your face feel oily and sticky, where you can feel rivulets of sweat streak down your back and make your shirt stick to your skin. Hoseok certainly didn’t like this kind of warm. It made him want to submerge in a bathtub full of ice and never come out, despite his blatant dislike of cold things.

His appointment was for two pm and he still had around forty-five minutes left before he could enter the seemingly innocuous building situated across the road, cuddled safely between two inarguably ostentatious ones with their entirely glass made structures reflecting distorted ghosts of people walking past them, and flamboyant yet intricately decorated entrances.

Hoseok had been sitting on a bench across the street for a whole hour now, noticing people enter and exit with varying hints of emotions playing across their face.

It was fascinating how different human beings could be from each other. He saw some people enter with their shoulders slumped with the weight of defeat and hopelessness, and exit with their backs a little straighter, eyes a little brighter and mouths stretched a little wider. On the other hand, he also saw people walk in with determination written on their faces and walk out with disappointment and defeat dancing on their shoulders. So, to say it was interesting to watch so many different people from different walks of life, displaying so many different emotions each unique to their situation, would be an understatement. It was absolutely fascinating.

He always used to consider himself as a people’s person, who used to love making friends and talking to new people; who craved to know their stories and their struggles, what made them happy and what made them sad, he used to love it all. But like so many other things in his life, that changed too.

He was no longer the kind of person who could easily talk to people and make friends. Hell, whatever friends he did, currently, have probably only stuck with him out of necessity rather than choice, not that he had any problem with that. The further people stayed away from him the better, even though sometimes he would cry himself to sleep just because things got too lonely. But Hoseok had made his peace with loneliness, had made peace with the fact that he might never have any kind of a close relationship with anyone, ever. So yes, he liked watching people from a distance, liked imagining their stories, and if he came to his appointment almost two hours early to do just that, even if it meant being drenched in sweat then, well, nobody’s noticing. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice a stranger sit beside him until, after a while, the latter cleared his throat rather pointedly to have his attention.

And attention he did have.

He was probably the most beautiful person Hoseok had ever laid his eyes upon. Okay, it was probably an exaggeration, but a well deserved one at that because, whoa, is that a pout? Is the stranger pouting at him? Why was it so adorable? Please don’t make him stop pouting.

But apparently, there was some force out there in the universe which hated it whenever he was even a tiny bit happy because not only did the stranger stop pouting, instead he started frowning at him.

“You’re gawking”, the stranger said and okay, his voice was even more attractive than his face. How was it so deep when he himself looked like he could fall apart with the barest brush of a finger- so, so delicate.

Oh, and what did he say? 

“Sorry, what? What did you say? I- I didn’t get you”, came a shaky mumble from Hoseok. Damn, it’s been a long while since he has felt like this. A few more minutes and he’ll probably creep the person out enough to make him run away from here as if the bench itself was on fire.

“I said, you’re gawking”, the stranger said, though this time, it was accompanied with the tiniest hint of an amused smile. If he didn’t have years of practice in observing the seemingly unnoticeable, he would have probably missed it. But he didn’t. And now he wishes he did because he doesn’t know how to handle it. He doesn’t know how to react, so he proceeds with what he has always done best- he mumbles out a small apology and starts steadfastly ignoring the person.

He ignores him till the time he can’t. Because the stranger is clearing his throat again and Hoseok can feel his eyes on him which is making him even more nervous. So, he gives up and turns to look at him, his eyebrows raised in a silent ‘what do you want?’. At that, the guy actually looks sheepish and… he also looks a bit agitated, judging from the slow but incessant tapping of his feet.

Now that Hoseok’s looking at him properly, he realizes that he must be dying of heat because not only was it a hundred degrees out here, the guy was also wearing a full-sleeved, black T-shirt on top of a pair of extremely tight looking black jeans. Which, admittedly, was awfully distracting but also seemed really uncomfortable to him who was sweating like a pig even in his loose tank top and sweats. Who wears so much black during summer?

The stranger looked like he was contemplating something before speaking out “Uhh sorry, I just wanted to ask if you had any gum with you? I-” He takes a deep breath “I need some gum and the nearest shop will take a while to get to and I don’t want to be late for my appointment.” He speaks out in a low grumble and winces, as if explaining himself to a stranger was physically painful for him. 

“Appointment? You’re also here for a- a-”, Hoseok realized he was probably crossing a line by asking a stranger something personal like that and didn’t complete his sentence. Although, he wasn’t sure what made him want to ask it in the first place. He didn’t do that anymore. He didn’t strike up conversations with people just because they ignited a small spark of curiosity in him. He couldn’t afford to do that.

“A therapy session? Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Now it was Hoseok’s turn to look sheepish

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I-I, actually, I also have an appointment in-” he glances at his watch and lets out a squeak “in, well, two minutes apparently. I should get going”, he winces and makes to stand up when the man grabs his wrist and just as quickly lets go of it after successfully eliciting a fearful gasp and an equally terrified jump from him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…do that. Just, do you have it?” The stranger looked at him imploringly, which knocked Hoseok’s breath right out of his body for a moment, and in his shock, he let out a dazed “what?” before the stranger sighed and genuinely let out a small smile before saying, “a gum. Do you have one?” And with that, Hoseok came back to his senses, hoping to god that the hot weather would be enough to explain all the red that was bound to be spreading across his face right now

“Oh…oh No, I’m sorry. I don’t have any” and it should be disturbing how disappointed he felt after seeing the stranger’s face fall in resignation, but then he remembered “Wait, I do have something else though!”, he rummaged through his bag for a second before pulling out a lollipop with a triumphant whoop, which was also strange because a lollipop would be the third last thing on Hoseok’s list to get him excited.

But whatever strangeness he felt dissipated into thin air when the stranger gave him the most beautiful gummy smile he had ever seen in his twenty-three years of existence. And he wasn’t even exaggerating. He knew he was staring and the lollipop was still clutched tightly in his hand, but for some reason, he could not help it. So, he stared. And the stranger stared right back, his smile fading to an almost imperceptible one.

Maybe a second passed or maybe an hour, it certainly did feel like an hour to Hoseok when he realized what was happening and looked away. He cleared his throat and stretched out the hand which was clutching the lollipop “Here you go. I hope you like caramel because well… because It’s caramel flavored” he wanted to bang his head on a wall. How much more awkward does he have to be?

The stranger just let out a small huff of laugh and took the Lollipop with a grateful smile, “Thank you. Caramel would be fine”, and before he could do anything else, like shake his hand or something equally ridiculous and horrifying, Hoseok threw his bag over his shoulder and almost ran across the road, but before he could even take a step, the stranger said, “It’s Yoongi.” and he must have looked at him confusedly because the stranger- Yoongi- felt the need to specify- “my name. It’s my name. I’m Yoongi” and he really should be leaving because this was not good. This was really not good. But instead, he said “I’m Hoseok. Jung Hoseok” and before Yoongi could reply or, god forbid, _smile_ at him again, he ran. He ran across the street, inside the building and to the 6th floor, and he didn’t look back. He caught his breath before entering the waiting area and hoped this would be the first and last time he met that person. He hoped and he tried not to feel disappointed. But it was for the best and he knew that; or at least he told himself that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case if anyone was wondering, the case history format is not it. The actual format used is way too detailed and redundant for the purpose of this fic, so i've just stated the essentials. Oh, and the diagnosis is ICD- 10 based and not DSM-V. Cheers :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's entirely in Yoongi's POV.  
> If there's any doubt or question, feel free to ask :D

**10 th July 2011**

**Name** : Min Yoongi

 **Age:** 16

 **Sex** : Male

 **Education** : Student (11th grade)

 **Family Structure** : Nuclear

 **Informant** : Parents; Self

**Informant Reliability:** Adequate

**Chief Complaints**

  * Suicidal ideation and persistent self-harming behavior
  * Excessive irritability
  * Disrupted school performance
  * Decreased interest in activities normally enjoyable
  * Substance use
  * Marked weight loss
  * Frequent panic attacks
  * Insomnia 
  * Feelings of excessive guilt and worthlessness



**Onset:** Insidious

 **Course:** Continuous

 **Progress** : Deteriorating

 **Provisional diagnosis:** Severe Depressive Episode without Psychotic Symptoms (F32.2)

Comorbid with- Panic Disorder (F41.0)

* * *

The man was there again. This was the fourth time Yoongi was seeing him sitting at the exact same spot on the bench just across the road. The last two times, he was too much in a hurry to think much about it but now, now he thinks it’s probably weird that someone would regularly sit and stare at people walking in and out of a psychiatric facility.

Maybe he was in a gang or something? and maybe he was developing an elaborate plan to kidnap some poor, depressed soul. But he seemed too, how should he put it, pretty? to be in a gang. Not that Yoongi was stereotyping, he’s sure there must be plenty of pretty gang members with a penchant for stalking psychiatric patients. But something told him that this man was different, not only because he was pretty but because he could swear, the first time he saw him, he was trying to talk to a cat whose only attention was on ignoring the guy and getting as comfortable as it could on the, apparently, perpetually occupied bench. It was adorable.

Maybe the guy was just lonely; he seemed like a lonely person. Yoongi could see it in the way he looked at people. The wistfulness and sadness in his eyes were entirely too familiar. And maybe that’s why the fifth time he saw him sitting at the exact same spot, before he even knew what he was doing and before his brain could overthink itself into panic mode, he walked over and sat beside him.

He didn’t know why he did it, the last time he had wanted to initiate a conversation with someone was seven years ago when he’d found Jungkook crying alone on the school rooftop. And that had resulted in him developing his first close bond with another human being. After that, he didn’t feel the need to try and talk to other people, Jungkook was always enough for him, he didn’t need any more friends.

But somehow, that was exactly what he was wanting to do right now- he wanted to talk to this person and he couldn’t figure out why.

The next few minutes could probably be included in the list of top ten most excruciating moments of Yoongi’s life. Okay, maybe not, but it was a close thing.

Not only did he not know what to do now that he was sitting next to the stranger, he was also getting increasingly anxious because he had no idea what was going on in his head, and not to mention the fact that he was getting a migraine just thinking about his session with his psychologist. If things go well, it could be his last, but if they don’t, he’d be stuck in this repetitive cycle of constant misery and failure.

And soon enough, he forgot about the stranger in favor of wallowing in the possibilities of all the things that could go awry if his psychologist decides he’s not fit enough to discontinue his ‘treatment’. A lot of things could go straight to shit, and the most awful of it was that he might never get his job back.

Just thinking about all of it made him want to inhale a cigarette or ten. But he had promised Kookie he wouldn’t smoke anymore. Why did he do that again? Oh, because that’s just how it is nowadays; he no longer knows what the hell he is doing.

He generally carries a pack of gum for moments like these, when he’d rather smoke than face his fear or anxiety, it helps him in curbing his need to destroy his lungs, and makes him feel a little less agitated. Kookie calls it oral fixation, he calls it surviving. But the problem was that he didn’t have any gum on him, and the nearest departmental store was a twenty-minute walk away.

Was he desperate enough to leave the relative comfort of sitting down and walk to the departmental store, in the scorching heat, for a pack of gum? Yes, he was. Was he going to do it? No, he wasn’t. It would take him approximately forty-five minutes to come back and he didn’t want to be late for his session, especially not today, when so much was hanging by the thread just on the kind of impression Yoongi made.

He decided to swallow his nervousness and still his pounding heart, before clearing his throat pointedly to get the stranger’s attention. This was his only option; it was a testament to how desperate he was feeling that he actually decided to ask a stranger for a piece of gum. He wanted to laugh at himself.

And when he looked at the stranger to actually voice out his request, he was sure he stopped breathing for a second, because-

Oh.

Oh…

He was beautiful.

He was beautiful in a way only an angel could be.

He looked ethereal with the sun shining from behind him, bathing him in sunlight. It was as if the rays of light were bouncing off of his skin and personally punching Yoongi in the gut.

He should have walked to the departmental store.

He also must have had a peculiar expression on his face because the stranger was quite literally gawking at him. Yoongi frowned, was he being too obvious?

This was going to be hard.

* * *

Surprisingly, the stranger seemed even more nervous than Yoongi, which should be considered a great deed in itself.

He had turned beet red and slowly mumbled out an apology when Yoongi, being the idiot that he is, had brought to his attention the fact that he was being gawked at by him. And maybe it came off as rude, as his words generally do even when he’s not intending them to be, because for the next few minutes the stranger was deliberately trying to ignore his very existence. He had to engage in another round of, very pointed, throat clearing to regain his attention. It worked. He was looking at him again, and he was clearly irritated judging by the raised eyebrows and grave look being thrown his way.

Yoongi felt embarrassed but he couldn’t chicken out now that he had gone ahead and actually arrested the man’s full attention.

* * *

He was an idiot.

Yoongi was very well aware of the fact that he could be extremely thoughtless sometimes, the fact which was yet again proven correct when he, entirely impulsively, took hold of the guy’s wrist and by doing so, very effectively, asserted his position as a grade A creep who goes around disregarding other people’s personal space while successfully scaring and offending them. Ten fucking points to Gryffindor.

He wanted to apologize profusely, especially after looking at the guy’s stricken expression. He wanted to, but he didn’t; his social and emotional quotient was way too low for him to go ahead and do that. So naturally, he did what he knew best- he brushed it off with a not-entirely-sincere seeming apology and changed the topic by reiterating his request for a piece of gum. Which, in his defense, _was_ his original intention when he went ahead and grabbed the man’s hand, or so he’d like to think. And apparently, his hand-holding stint had really shocked the guy because he still seemed to be in a confused daze, which might or might not have made Yoongi smile a bit.

Ultimately, pretty or not, the man ended up not having any gum. Yoongi could cry, and his facial expressions must have been obvious enough, because the very next moment the man was pulling out a lollipop from his bag with a loud, victorious whoop.

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. 

And in that moment, he felt as if everything had come to a screeching halt. The stranger was staring at him with an inscrutable look on his face and Yoongi couldn’t help but stare back. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, their eyes gazing into each other, trying to figure out what they were feeling, what the were seeing, before the moment was broken by the man as he looked away and started talking about…caramel? God, he was beautiful.

* * *

He was leaving.

Yoongi was panicking.

He didn’t even know his name.

“Jung Hoseok” the voice rang out, before disappearing in a blur of cars and buildings.

Little did he know that the sound of this name would change everything for him; little did he know that two universes had already collided and become one.

* * *

It took him two days to recover.

After his psychologist had denied to give him the green light regarding his capability to function and survive independently, to put it simply, he had lost his shit. He had lost every semblance of control he had tried so hard to build up and maintain, and walked out of the darned building in a burning rage, which in hindsight probably helped in blotting more ink on his already blotched reputation. 

She had told him that he was not ready to work in a high-stress environment, that he was still on his path to improvement, hence vulnerable to various psychological distress. He had told her to go suck a dick, which only made her sigh and look at him knowingly as if he had just proved her point.

“You have shown no will or intention to form new relationships with people” she said. “Let alone forming new relationships, you have made no efforts to improve your existing ones. When was the last time you called your brother, Yoongi?” at his lack of response, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “look, I know you try, Yoongi. I know you do. And you have come a long way from where you were eight years ago when you first came to me. But I cannot allow you to sabotage all your progress by letting you push yourself into a situation for which you are not yet ready. As a person responsible for your well-being I cannot allow that.” She kept aside his case-file and leaned forward, taking both of his hands in her long, calloused ones. For eight long years, Yoongi had considered her to be the maternal figure his own mother could never be; Jungkook called it transference, he called it natural bonding.

The point was, maybe that’s why this was hurting so much. Maybe he had expected her to believe in him more than this, maybe he'd _wanted_ her to have more faith in him. And the fact that she didn’t, probably hurt him more than the aspect of not being able to go back to his job, and looking at Kookie’s disappointed face.

“Look, Yoongi, I know how much you want to go back to your old job. I know you miss doing what you did there. Trust me, I understand. And I want to help you in doing that even though it might not seem like that to you right now.” She let go of his hands in favor of pulling out a sheet of paper from underneath her desk

“But before I can allow you to work in a challenging and demanding environment as your last one was, I need to have proof of the fact that you would be able to manage yourself properly. I need to have tangible proof, Yoongi, and so far, you have given me nothing.” She handed over the paper to Yoongi, which he took from her begrudgingly.

It was a brochure for a school for special children. “What am I supposed to do with this?”, he spat. He was losing his patience bit by bit, and he knew he was only one wrong reply away from barging out of the door.

“I need you to prove to me that you are ready to go back to your job and face professional and personal challenges effectively. There’s a vacancy open in this school for a music teacher, it's a low stress job and I want you to apply for it. If you get the job and are effectively able to manage your responsibilities without sabotaging your mental health and, along the way, are able to form new, meaningful relationships with people other than Jungkook, I’ll review your position again.” Yoongi could only blink at her in shock.

She wanted him to teach music to children in order to prove himself? Was this a joke?

“Is this a joke?” Yoongi blinked at her, “are you fucking with me right now?” he hoped she was; he really, really hoped for both their sake.

“I’m being completely serious, Yoongi. I am not forcing you to do it, it’s completely your choice if you want to take up this chance or not, but I want you to consider it as just another part of therapy. Instead of writing down your feelings in a journal as homework, I want you to go out in the real world and figure yourself out.” Yoongi let out a sardonic laugh at that. Yeah, right. “More than me, I want you to prove to _yourself_ that you can do this; that you are ready to walk back into that part of your old life and remain unscathed by it.” She smiled hopefully at him, clearly misunderstanding his unusual silence for acceptance instead of raging anger and disbelief.

Yoongi let the brochure fall from his hand and onto the table; stood up, and after breathing out a one last “fuck you” to the resigned face of his apparent ‘well-wisher’, stormed out of the room and soon after, the building.

That is how he found himself stumbling back home in the middle of the night, not only drunk as a skunk but also smelling like one. Drink your sorrows, he always likes to say, but also your anger, happiness and any other emotion that threatens your equilibrium went unspoken.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. Feeling helpless wasn’t a new sensation to him, he has felt like that for as long as he could remember, but for the past few months he had honestly thought he was getting better. He had thought he was ready to walk back into the normalcy that came with having his job and making new music.

Guess not.

He stumbled into his building’s elevator and hoped he pressed the right button for his floor. When he reached his apartment after what felt like ages, he knocked at the door with whatever amount of strength he had left because, honestly, he’d rather die than try to unlock it himself in this state. Although, he was _still_ probably going to die when his roommate opens the door.

And just as he expected, he was soon greeted by the fuming, furious face of a bunny. Cute.

“Where the hell were you, Hyung?” Jungkook basically screamed into his ears. Not cute.

“I called you a million times, Hye-jin ssi said you stormed out of the place in the middle of your session. Do you have _any_ idea how worried I was?” Jungkook was still screaming, but Yoongi ignored him in favor of climbing onto the nearest piece of furniture with a flat surface, which thankfully turned out to be their sofa, and tried to get a much-needed shut eye. He could apologize to Kookie in the morning, right now all he wanted to do was sleep, and preferably never wake up.

Jungkook must have realized his words were falling on deaf ears because suddenly everything went silent, and just as Yoongi was succumbing to the gentle embrace of Morpheus, he felt an even gentler caress on his cheeks, a feather light peck on his forehead and a soft “good night, hyung” in his ears.

And just like that, Yoongi fell dead to the world with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. This chapter actually got way too long so i divided it into two. I'll be posting the next one soon enough. Cheers!


	3. Chapter 3

It only took two days for him to get his ‘head out of his ass’ as Jungkook had so sophisticatedly phrased it.

In those two days, which seemed to stretch on and on and felt so _endless_ , they fought- he and Jungkook. They fought and they screamed. Their words, acerbic and hurtful burning a hole in their hearts and conscience. He never liked fighting with Kookie, it made him feel like his heart was shattering into tiny, little pieces.

He was the only family Yoongi had.

If they hadn’t found each other when they did, he doesn’t think he would have even been alive to make all these bad decisions that everyone says he seemed to have a knack for making.

They were each other’s home. Without Jungkook there wouldn’t be a Yoongi.

So, they screamed and they yelled, but when the sun went down and loneliness threatened to embrace their bodies like a long-lost friend, they gave up. They found each other in the dark of the night and held on as tightly as they could, both afraid of being left alone in this big, cruel world.

“Please don’t do this to yourself, hyung” Jungkook had whispered brokenly as they sat side-by-side, with their hands intertwined and spread between their bodies.

He sounded so, so broken. Amongst the two of them, Jungkook had always been the one to do and feel things more intensely. The boy didn’t know how to do anything without giving it his all, and most of the time Yoongi was grateful for it. Especially on days when he couldn’t feel anything but a hollow sense of numbness eating away at him, because that’s when he knew that at least he had his best friend to feel everything for the both of them. 

So, he caved in. He agreed to give it a chance; to give _himself_ a last chance, because if this didn’t work out, then at least no one would blame him for not trying.

Soon after, he had called the school and they had quickly set up his interview with the principal for the coming week.

Yoongi spent the days leading up to it in a drunken haze, until Jungkook, having had enough of seeing him mope around, basically threw everything even mildly alcoholic out of their house and made him swear he wouldn’t touch a drink again for a long, long while. He had begrudgingly agreed.

Contrary to what others thought, he never really enjoyed drinking, or even smoking, for that matter. But he enjoyed being alone with his thoughts even less; so, at the end of the day, it was only a matter of choosing between the lesser of two evils. And he always chose the easy way out.

Although, when the day of the interview did arrive, Yoongi had a hard time believing that he had actually agreed to do this.

It was clearly a horrible idea, he didn’t even like kids! Okay that wasn’t true, he didn’t like _most_ of them. But still, how was he supposed to work with them when the longest time he had spent with one was when his next-door neighbor had to leave her kid alone for a day and Jungkook, being the dumbass he is, had volunteered to babysit him. At their own house. Needless to say, it went horribly and Kookie and he made an unspoken agreement of never doing anything like that again.

This was a really, really bad idea. Maybe Hye-jin ssi was right, he did need new friends who wouldn’t coerce him into applying for jobs he was bound to screw up.

But for him to screw up the job, he needed to be hired first. Which seemed increasingly doubtful at the moment because his interviewer was late. He had been waiting for the past one hour and there was still no sign of any other person apart from an aloof-looking janitor who passed him a creepy looking smile before walking out of the waiting room.

Huh.

As a few more minutes passed, Yoongi started feeling more and more optimistic about the fact that he just might be able to leave from here without having to interview for a job he wasn’t even sure he wanted to have. Granted, he could still leave by his own choice, but then Jungkook would kill him; and Yoongi didn’t believe in many things, and a Pyrrhic victory was one of them.

But right at that moment, the door to the waiting room opened and a short guy with strawberry blond hair walked in. He was wearing an oversized hoodie on top of equally loose-fitting knee-length shorts, and judging by the huge pair of sunglasses still perched on his nose while inside a closed room, he was a hundred percent sure that the man was either recovering from a difficult hangover, or had a terrible fashion sense. Both of the aspects being equally amusing.

“We apologize for making you wait, Mr.-”, the man scrunched up his nose in, what he would like to call, apparent distaste at having forgotten an interviewee’s name. His scratchy voice was proof enough that the man indeed seemed to be recovering from a hangover. Pity. If nothing, it would have been amusing working with a guy with an eccentric fashion sense; not that Yoongi was going to work here, nope.

“Min Yoongi”, he provided helpfully even though a part of him felt like snickering at the man’s abashed expression.

“Yes, of course. We’re sorry to make you wait for such a long time, Yoongi ssi. Mr. Kim is, unfortunately, caught up in an important meeting right now, so I’m going to be interviewing you on his behalf.” The man smiled at him confidently, as if half of his face wasn’t hidden underneath sunglasses and he wasn’t wearing a hoodie with ‘oppai’ printed on it in huge block letters.

Yoongi was finding it difficult to react to the entire situation, so he simply nodded and stood up to follow the man to wherever it was they conducted their interviews.

* * *

He had _never,_ in his whole life, seen such an extensive Super Mario collection as he saw when they entered the room where his interview was, supposedly, going to take place. There were all kinds of figurines and plushies carefully placed on various shelves and small tables; he could even spot a few Iron Man and Captain America action figures!

He loved it.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, Yoongi ssi. Please take a seat.” The seat and the accompanying desk being the only thing in the room seeming out of place.

The man finally took off his sunglasses and smiled weakly at him. Yoongi, on the other hand, was getting increasingly unsure if he was even at the right place. Maybe he’d mistakenly written a wrong address, maybe this man was expecting someone else for an interview for something entirely else.

Suddenly, he wanted to bolt out of the door and scream at Jungkook for putting him in this position.

This didn’t even feel like a school! It certainly wasn’t big enough to be one. Whatever Yoongi had seen till now was limited to a few narrow corridors and closed doors; at first, he had assumed that maybe it was a floor for administration purposes or something, but now he wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t even hear the usually migraine inducing cacophony of children, and if that didn’t amount to something being shady, then he didn’t know what did. Also, not to mention the fact that apart from a receptionist, the creepy janitor, and this man, he hadn’t come across a single other soul.

“I’m Park Jimin, by the way. You can think of me as Mr. Kim’s assistant, although I don’t prefer being referred to as that. But for the sake of convenience and maintaining a ‘professional hierarchy’, let’s go with that.” The man- Jimin- smiled at him with a pained expression and Yoongi felt a little calmer. He didn’t seem like a bad person.

Then they sat in bit of an awkward silence before Jimin coughed and started speaking.

“We went through the resume you mailed us, Yoongi ssi, and I must say it was quite impressive. You worked as a producer and songwriter at BigHit Entertainment for four years and even before that you were a relatively big name in the underground rapping scene.” He continued, “Not to be presumptuous, but I do not see any reason for you to apply for the role of a teacher at a small private center. Especially when you have had no past teaching experience.” Jimin was looking at him curiously, as if he had never come across something as perplexing as this. But Yoongi just sighed in relief because at least he wasn’t at a wrong address giving an interview for an unknown job.

“My roommate would probably want me to lie and say I want this job because I love kids, or that teaching gives my heart some much-needed satisfaction or something equally preposterous as that, but the truth is that I need this job. I need it to prove to myself that, even after hitting a rough patch, I’m still capable of doing something I love, and I love music. It doesn’t matter to me if I’m teaching it or producing it as long as I’m involved in it.” Yoongi surprised himself with the answer. He hadn’t even thought of saying all that, hell, he didn’t even know he _thought_ all that; it just seemed to rush out of his mouth. But if he thinks about it, it was honest. Brutally so.

“And as far as teaching experience is concerned, I don’t know if it counts or not, but I used to train plenty of trainees in music production during my time at BigHit.” He spoke out in a matter-of-factly manner, though someone really perceptive would have probably been able to identify a hint of wistfulness accompanied with it.

Jimin seemed to appear satisfied with his answer going by the pleased smile on his face. The man seemed to smile an awful lot.

“I see, but since, here, you’ll be expected to work with children with cognitive and learning disabilities, you’ll have to go through intensive training sessions with Mr. Kim in order to ease into your role as their music teacher. It is essential for any teacher to understand the kids' needs in order to effectively communicate and work with them. Each child has their own individualized curriculum so you’ll mainly be conducting classes in multiple batches. Would you be okay with all of this?” Jimin asked. Yoongi seemed like someone who was passionate about what he did, about music, and he could appreciate that, in fact, they needed someone just like that.

Yoongi nodded, “yeah, of course. I mean, I kind of expected that” he said, and he did expect that. Anyone applying for this job without any prior experience would.

“I see. Well, you can join us from tomorrow then. Since this is a school for children with special needs, we keep a timing which is comfortable for all our kids. The classes start from eleven in the morning and go on till four o'clock in the evening. Although, like i said, you'll have to go through intensive training for the first few days before being allowed to conduct your classes alone. Also-” Jimin stopped talking abruptly after looking at Yoongi’s increasingly flabbergasted expression

“Is there any problem, Yoongi ssi?” he politely enquired. He knew some people came with high expectations and they, more often than not, fell short of them. So, he just wanted to know if there would be any problem like that with Yoongi, too. It gets really disruptive for the children when their teachers change frequently; makes it hard for them to form a rapport.

“Is that it?” Yoongi blinked at him, “you don’t need to ask me anything else?” by now, he was pretty sure he was gaping at the other man. He did not expect this. What he _had_ expected was to be politely told to wait for a confirmation call which would probably never come.

“Is there anything else to know?” Jimin grinned, “to be honest, this interview was kind of a formality; you were basically hired as soon as Mr. Kim saw your resume. He was really impressed by the underground rapping bit.” He snickered. Yoongi continued to look more shocked “and as far as your salary is concerned, Mr. Kim was fine with the expectation you quoted in your e-mail, so that wouldn’t be an issue unless you’ve changed your mind about it.” He could only just shake his head in disbelief; looks like he’s still got it.

“So, should I presume you agree to the position of a teacher in this school?” Jimin enquired again, although he had a sneaking suspicion that the person was more than alright with it, judging by the expression of disbelief plastered on his face.

“Yeah. Uh- I mean, yes, of course. Thank you.” Yoongi stuttered out awkwardly. The thing is, despite his initial reluctance to apply for the job, he _was_ feeling pleased; because this meant he really had a chance to prove himself again. Maybe, this was not so bad. He’ll buy Kookie some lamb skewers in the evening.

“Great! Let me show you around then. Oh, and you should probably know a few important things before you join the team;” Jimin continued, while walking out the door as Yoongi followed after him quietly, “As you must already know, this is an entirely privately funded school, which means Mr. Kim’s the one who funds everything. What your roommate would have wanted you to lie about? Mr. Kim actually believes in that” Yoongi blushed at that, in hindsight, it was probably not the right thing to say in order to secure the job “he loves children and I think he _actually_ does this for the satisfaction of his heart, and also because he’s just a good person, not that you heard this from me.” He grinned, Yoongi smiled with him. Maybe he was going to work with a good bunch of people; he was somewhat relieved.

They went straight through the corridor to the elevator as Jimin continued telling him about whatever he needed to know “We are a small bunch of people here. So, you definitely don’t need to be worried about being overwhelmed by a huge crowd. There is no formal designation for us, or rather, we don’t like being assigned any designations; Seokjin hyung’s the ‘principal’ because we have to maintain at least a semblance of professional hierarchy, and also because he owns everything and pays our salaries. Other than that, there is basically no formality between any of us.” They got on the elevator, which was quite spacious…and creepy. Yoongi wasn’t fond of looking at his reflection and the elevator was basically a cuboid mirror room; he didn’t know where to look. But before he could decide where to settle his eyes, the doors dinged open and they walked out. And, wow.

This was…good. Really good.

There were various, big and extremely well lit, rooms and unlike the closed ones he saw upstairs, these had huge glass windows looking out to the open corridor. They walked while Jimin explained what each room was used for; like the only ones with the arranged desks and benches were where all the academic classes took place, the rest of the rooms were sans any chairs or tables save for a choice few. They had loads of colorful beanbags though, and according to Jimin, these were the ones used for various activities ranging from art and craft to music.

When Yoongi saw the music room, his jaw dropped to the floor; it had a grand piano. The most beautiful grand piano he had ever seen. He felt like crying; he _was_ probably crying. It was a beautiful and spacious room and he could definitely live there for the rest of his life. But they soon had to walk out because contrary to his wishes, he couldn’t actually do that.

Jimin showed him around the floor some more, and he particularly liked the fact that there was a whole room dedicated to displaying each child’s achievements, which ranged from winning an art contest to passing all their examinations. It was sweet.

Eventually, they went further down the floor to the lower basement where, according to Jimin, the teachers’ lounge was. But apparently it was called the dance-room floor by all the children because it was where the most fun activity was conducted, which was obviously dance, much to his silent disagreement.

But when Yoongi actually did see the ‘dance room’, he felt it was probably justified to name the whole floor after it. The room was huge. It was definitely the biggest one in the whole building, and going by what Jimin said next, he was probably right. 

“This is where all the indoor physical activities take place including dance. But we also use it to hold functions and small celebrations, so it’s pretty useful.” Jimin shrugged and walked out, Yoongi in his tow.

“The teachers’ lounge is where we all generally are gathered when not busy conducting classes or doing something else. It’s got T.V.” he grinned.

To say, Yoongi was impressed by everything would be not entirely true. He was well and truly astounded. “How does Mr. Kim afford all of this?” he asked, because there was no way he could afford all the expenses just through the fees they must receive, which, something told him, couldn’t be much. It didn’t seem that this Mr. Kim had the capitalist mindset.

“He’s an heir to the biggest industrial conglomerate in Korea. He manages” Jimin smirked as he saw understanding dawn on Yoongi’s face.

Oh. He was that Kim Seokjin.

“Anyway, you’re gonna love everyone here, I think we’re a cool bunch. In fact, a few of them should be in the lounge right now, come on I’ll introduce you to them.” They turned through the corridor and reached the only room that was situated there.

Yoongi’s anxiety brimmed up to the surface at the idea of meeting other people. He was _not_ prepared for this, he hadn’t even thought he’d get hired, let alone meet, who were very soon going to be, his acquaintances. And apparently, he had no time to prepare right now either, because suddenly he was inside the room and looking at a snoring, drooling blond head perched precariously on the arm of a sofa, right in front of him.

Well…that was unexpected.

“Wake up, jackass” Jimin hit the back of blond boy’s head. “Way to make a first impression” he mumbled under his breath, which was, okay, which was a _little_ ironical coming from him but who was Yoongi to judge?

Blond boy mumbled and made, what he could only describe as, grabby hands at Jimin.

“Don’t worry about it, he’ll be up in a moment.” Came a voice from beside Yoongi, making him curse and jump a foot in the air

“Fuck... g-god shit.” He almost screeched. Blond boy, who had one eye opened now, snickered at him. The guy beside him turned red.

“Oh I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m generally not known for having a subtle presence. Sorry” The man smiled at him bashfully, he had a steaming cup of coffee in one of his hands and his other was nervously scratching at the back of his head. For some reason, Yoongi empathized with him.

“No, it’s alright. I should be the one sorry for… being impolite.” Blond boy snorted and he could see Jimin hide a smile behind his hand.

“Yoongi ssi, meet Namjoon hyung. He’s the one who teaches all the boring subjects, along with Seokjin hyung and Sun-mi noona. And he’s right, he is not known to have an entirely discreet presence. You can generally hear him coming from a mile away.” The man- Namjoon- nodded in a very resigned manner, which was, for the lack of a better word, interesting.

“Guys, meet Min Yoongi ssi. He’s going to be starting here as the new music teacher.” Jimin announced cheerfully

Realizing that this was probably his cue to introduce himself, Yoongi rumbled out, “Oh, Uh... well, hello? I’m Min Yoongi, just call me Yoongi though. Nice to meet you” and greeted both blond boy and Namjoon. The latter smiled and shook his hand, and in the process spilled the entirety of his coffee down on the floor and on his shoes. Nobody batted an eye save from Yoongi, and Namjoon himself, who cursed under his breath and profusely apologized to no one in particular before walking out of the room to probably get a mop.

“I’m Kim Taehyung but you can call me Tae" came, what turned out to be, blond boy's voice "I teach art and craft even though I don’t believe art can be 'taught', I think it can only be felt. Nice to meet you too, Yoongi Hyung.” Taehyung grinned an adorable boxy grin while still half sprawled on the sofa; Yoongi couldn’t help but smile back at him, albeit a bit tentatively. “You _are_ a Hyung, right?”, he asked, looking up at him suspiciously, as if Yoongi's very existence was a lie. 

Jimin hit Taehyung hard on the back of his head again for letting go of proper honorifics, to which the latter protested, “He _asked_ us to call him by his name, Jiminie. You can’t just ignore and disrespect people’s wishes like that, it's rude!” and pouted petulantly. Yoongi actually wanted to let out a huff of laugh at that; it seemed like he was going to be working with grown-up kids, too. At least he had enough experience in _that_ , what with being Jungkook’s roommate for almost more than five years now.

“It’s alright, he’s right. I did ask. And yeah, unless somehow, you are 25 years old, I am your hyung.” At that Taehyung poked his tongue at Jimin and winked at Yoongi, to which he responded like anyone else would do- by averting his gaze and ignoring it ever happened.

Soon, both Jimin and Taehyung started bickering among themselves which left Yoongi standing awkwardly in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. And he was just about to announce his leave before things got more awkward for him, when the door opened behind them.

At first, he thought maybe Namjoon was back with the mop, so he didn’t bother to turn back and look until Jimin cheerfully announced, “Oh, look Hoseok hyung's here too! Hyung, meet Yoongi hyung. He’s going to be our new music teacher.” And just like that, Yoongi’s whole world stopped to a standstill.

What?

An equally shocked face was staring back at him.

_What?_

Taehyung’s and Jimin’s voices blurred and dimmed in the background.

Is this really happening?

The stranger-No- _Hoseok_ was staring at him with shock and fear etched onto every muscle of his face. Yoongi empathized, he felt pretty much the same.

“Do you guys know each other?” Jimin probably sensed the sudden change in the room’s atmosphere, because now he was looking at Hoseok with a probing look on his face, which soon turned into a suspicious one when neither of them answered him and instead continued staring at each other.

But before Jimin could say something else, a loud crash sounded from outside the room, breaking both of them out of their trance.

Hoseok blinked and looked away first, leaving Yoongi gaping at his moving away profile as he walked to the cabinet situated at the far end of the room.

“It’s Namjoon hyung”, Jimin called out from outside the room where he ran to check the source of the noise, “he fell and broke the mop. Again.” Taehyung snickered from where he was still sprawled on the sofa, probably having already guessed it. He was also looking at Yoongi with an inscrutable look on his face; it made him want to shuffle his feet guiltily like a schoolboy caught in the act of stealing candy.

“So, _do_ you know each other?” Taehyung asked again, this time the question was directed at him instead of Hoseok, but he could still see the latter's body stiffen imperceptibly.

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, no. Not exactly. We met only once very briefly”, he stuttered out. “It was while I was waiting for my appointment with my psychologist” Yoongi explained further, even though he really didn’t need to but god, he was feeling so nervous. How was this even possible? Out of all the places in the entire world, he joined the one where pretty boy worked. He didn’t even want to know if it was a curse or a blessing. Though it was probably both.

Taehyung hummed in a non-committal manner, and was still looking at both of them with an unreadable gaze, which made him feel even more nervous. And that’s when Hoseok decided to speak for the first time since entering the room

“Nice to meet you again, Yoongi ssi” he spoke without even looking in Yoongi’s direction, his back was turned and his entire attention seemed to be focused on stuffing his bag inside one of the cabinet’s many cupboards. Though, his voice seemed to have a weird effect on Yoongi, especially when he said his name, because suddenly his heart skipped a beat and he could feel heat spreading across his face.

He was about to reply but before he could, an exasperated Jimin and a very resigned looking Namjoon entered the room. What was it with people and entering rooms at the wrong damn time? He wanted to yell in frustration. He looked back at Hoseok and found him staring at him. Well there goes his heart, again. Yoongi couldn’t look away, it seemed to be happening a lot with him.

He could faintly hear Jimin and Namjoon arguing in the background, but apart from that, and the incessant thump of his own heartbeat, he couldn’t seem to sense anything else. Hypoesthesia, yeah that’s what they called it in that one book he had started reading a few months ago but had never actually got around to finishing.

His eyes felt incapable of leaving Hoseok’s, there was something about the man which intrigued him to no extent. Yoongi’s grandmother used to say that ‘a person's eyes told more stories than his mouth ever could’; maybe she had a point there, because Hoseok’s eyes, ever since the first time he saw him, seemed to be screaming something at him, at everyone around him. And, for some reason, Yoongi wanted to just _listen;_ he wanted to know what they were saying. He didn’t know why he wanted to do that when he barely knew the guy, but he did. Even right now, he could see so many emotions trying to brim up to the surface and break free. So he did what he could at the moment- he watched.

This time it was his ringtone that broke their gaze. It was Jungkook, probably calling to ask how his interview went. He’ll just tell him when gets back home. He declined the call and when he looked back up, Hoseok was gone. And all Yoongi could do was try not to let the disappointment show on his face.

“Yoongi hyung, can you come a little early tomorrow so that Seokjin hyung can explain to you whatever that’s expected of you in terms of this job, and how your training will proceed?” Jimin asked from the sofa, where Taehyung’s head was now placed comfortably on his lap instead of the armrest. 

Yoongi, who was now looking at the door in a dazed manner, just nodded and muttered a low “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that”, before bowing and bidding his goodbye to everyone in the room and rushing out of the place.

On his way out, he passed by the dance room.

Passed by Hoseok.

But before he could allow himself to do something embarrassing like stand and gape at the beautiful, beautiful man, he looked away.

He looked away and walked out of the building, his steps unsure and hesitating, not knowing where they really wanted to go. 

This was going to be difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! I just wanted to ask everyone who's reading this to take the depiction of the special school with a pinch of salt as i have taken certain creative liberties in portraying some of the stuff (although, i'll try to keep it as realistic as i'm able to). Still, if someone has any problem or doubt regarding it, feel free to comment.  
> Thank you! :D


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